Bruckner famously dedicated his Ninth Symphony to God; equally famously, he died before he finished it. The three-movement torso ranks among his greatest works, but the so-called problem of the missing finale has continued to nag in some quarters. In 1991, a performing version of the complete symphony - mind-bogglingly called the Samale-Phillips-Cohrs-Mazzuca edition - was produced by four musicologists. It has received neither the publicity nor the acclaim accorded to Deryck Cooke's completion of Mahler's Tenth and Antony Payne's version of Elgar's Third. This, in fact, was its UK premiere.

Whether it will ever take its place in the standard repertoire is debatable. Even though the symphony is technically unfinished, the three-movement version forms a complete statement in aesthetic, emotional, devotional and psychological terms. The ending of the adagio - with its magical transition from minor to major and flowing string phrases over the central chorale - is music of such spiritual certainty that it seems logical that the work should end here.

The new finale jolts us into territory that contrasts doubt with glory. The divine has become terrifying as vast brass fanfares blare judgmentally. The second subject quivers in abasement. It is impressive, but I remained unconvinced. Matters weren't helped by the performance: Swiss conductor and academic Robert Bachmann is a less than perfect interpreter of this edition.

Bruckner detractors, who see him as nothing more than solemn and grandiloquent, will have their views reinforced by Bachmann's approach. A pompous religiosity replaces religious fervour and genuine spirituality. God's majesty is equated with a high decibel count. The performance didn't find the RPO on its best form either. Only the scherzo pulverised as it should and the finale seemed merely loud. There is, perhaps, a case for the completed version of Bruckner's Ninth - but it has yet to be made.